


Art Class, Modeling, and Overdue Confessions

by timeandspace_lord (timeandspace_writer)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrien's secret feelings for Marinette that he's bottled up for a few years, F/M, It's just got... a catalyst if you will, Will include:, a bunch of horrible awkwardness, a very flustered Marinette, and that happens to be Adrien's brief career as a nude model in uni, awful dramatic irony for both the reader and poor Alya and Nino, cat puns even though Chat Noir is nowhere to be found in this fic, coffee dates, embarrassed Marinette and chivalrous Adrien, it's fluff i promise, refusal to admit to feelings on both their parts, things that got left unsaid between them before they parted ways at graduation, trying very hard to seem less flustered, which I guess makes this an AU where Ladybug and Chat Noir aren't part of the equation, who are caught in the middle of this nonsense still
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-09-30 09:22:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17221244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeandspace_writer/pseuds/timeandspace_lord
Summary: In which Adrien’s foray into nude modeling in university comes to an abrupt halt when it turns out the anatomical figures class he’s modeling for is the same one that a certain Marinette Dupain-Cheng is taking for her fashion design degree. Marinette is more composed than she was in middle and high school (barely), and Adrien has had professionalism drilled into him since he was a child. They make it through the first session with little more than some uncomfortable glances, extremely limited eye contact, and copious sweat droplets sliding down backs of necks, but inevitably begin to run into each other more and more often around campus as Adrien spends more time in the art department. Old thoughts and feelings from high school begin to rise back up to mix with new observations, and it all culminates when neither of them can possibly go through with another session while the other is there, but neither can afford to not go, both financially and egotistically, and neither of them will admit their feelings to one another or themselves, which leads to some very tense moments in the art rooms.





	1. I'm Not Embarrassed, it's Just a Job

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have... way too many ideas for Miraculous fanfiction and this one seemed like it would be fun to share. This is my first fic on AO3, so I don't actually know, like anything about anything on this site. I do not have someone to beta read my work, so I apologize if something doesn't make sense. It's also almost 1 AM and I'm already running on only 4 hours of sleep. Please feel free to leave constructive criticism, editing suggestions, plot predictions, offers to beta read, love and praise, money, food, publishing deals, whatever, in the comments.

"I'm not embarrassed, Nino, it's just a job."

 _"A job where you have to get completely naked in front of a whole bunch of people who will then analyze and draw every inch of you. You're right, what could possibly be embarrassing about that?"_ His friend's voice crackled in his earpiece.

"It's just like regular modeling, Nino. Plenty of people saw me in various states of undress for the  _Gabriel_ shoots. This isn't any different."

_"Sure it isn't, Adrien. Just remind me again why you're calling me ten minutes before you have to do this?"_

"Certainly not so you could tease me," Adrien hissed, ducking around a giggling group of undergrad students.

 _"Sorry, dude,"_ Nino said, sounding genuinely apologetic.  _"I just know that if I were in your place-"_

"Which you're not."

 _"If I were in your place,"_ Nino continued, ignoring the interruption,  _"I'd be pretty psyched out. Of course,"_ he added quickly,  _"I am not the Great Adrien Agreste of World Renown, fearless in the face of everything that isn't a steady relationship, stealer of hearts, and model of infinite experience due to being the son of a world-famous fashion designer."_

Adrien laughed, slowing down as the building he was expected in came into view. "No, you're not. Although, I'm not really sure I'm all of those things either."

He could almost hear Nino's eyeroll over the speaker.  _"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Heartbreaker. Speaking of your father's oh-so-lucrative business, why did you even take this job in the first place? It's not like you really need the money."_

"Altruism?" Adrien said. "Someone's gotta help those fashion design students get their degrees."

 _"Mhm,"_ Nino hummed, unimpressed with the excuse.  _"And absolutely nothing else compelled you to take your career in such a bold new direction?"_

Adrien paused in both his journey and conversation. "I have no idea what you could possibly mean," he said eventually. It was true that his decision hadn't been made entirely out of the goodness of his heart, but Nino's tone seemed a little too sinister to be referring to his deeper motivations.

 _"Oh, I'm sure it has absolutely nothing to do with your decision,"_ Nino replied in a far too casual tone that made Adrien narrow his eyes as he started to walk into the building.  _"I've just been talking to Alya..."_

"It shows," Adrien deadpanned through gritted teeth.

_"She was pretty interested when I mentioned that you were applying to jobs at this specific educational institution."_

"Why does Alya care about where I'm applying to jobs?" he asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check the room number he was looking for.

 _"Well, she, like me, noticed that you aren't exactly strapped for cash, and wondered if, perhaps, the draw wasn't the money, but the location."_ Adrien frowned at the sign on the wall, which seemed to list every room number except the one he was looking for.  _"More specifically,"_ Nino continued,  _"someone_ at _the location."_

The implication was enough to draw Adrien away from glaring at the plastic numbers on the wall. "What? Wait, ' _someone_ '? What's that supposed to mean?" He turned away from the wall to process exactly what his friend, or friends, really, were getting at. The room he was looking for was right in front of him. He scowled.

_"Well, Alya thought-"_

"D'you ever think Alya thinks a little too much about other people's relationships?" Adrien cut him off.

_"You gotta admit, dude, it's a pretty unlikely turn of events."_

" _What_ is? I don't actually know anyone at this university, as far as I'm aware."

_"As far as you're aware?"_

"Well, I didn't check! Believe it or not, I don't look for jobs based on whether or not I know people who work there." He sighed, running a hand down his face. "It's usually better if I don't," he muttered, more to himself than Nino.

There was a pause where Nino seemed to be thinking.  _"Alright,"_ he started, hesitantly,  _"well, Alya has some... information."_ He paused again, apparently deciding how much he was willing to tell Adrien.  _"And it just seemed... serendipitous, I suppose. And then you went with nude modeling and it really seemed like... uh, something."_

Adrien rolled his eyes. He was used to Alya playing matchmaker with him; she'd been doing it since high school and once they fell more-or-less out of touch, she started doing it indirectly through Nino, who was very, very bad at it. "Nino, I don't know what your girlfriend's gotten you into this time, but you should stay out of it. I told you, I don't know anyone at the university. And even if I did-" He pushed himself away from the wall, heading to the classroom. "-it's not like I got a class list or something. I have no idea who'll be... drawing.... me." He cringed at the way the words faltered and Nino laughed as if he could see it.

 _"Definitely not embarrassed, Adrien,"_ he teased.  _"Did all this talk of people you know get you paranoid?"_

Adrien groaned and resisted the urge to punch the wall he was close to. "It's a job, Nino," he growled. "And even if I do know people at this school, the odds of them being in this exact class are microscopic. So, no, I am neither embarrassed nor paranoid. Because it's not like anyone I know will ever even hear about, let alone see, this particular experience," he hissed as walked into the classroom, which was bursting with frenetic chatter that would mask the end of his conversation.

 _"Do Alya and I not count, then?"_ He could hear the smirk in Nino's voice, and he had to close his eyes to keep from cussing at his friend.

"Unfortunately no, but if either of you breathes a word of this to anyone else, I will _personally_ come to your homes late at night and  _maim_ you."

Nino laughed in Adrien's earpiece, unconcerned by the threat. In his other ear, the room buzzed happily, and lines of conversation reached him through the din.

"-I wonder who it'll be?" a girl's voice asked.

"You are way too excited about this whole thing. I'm starting to think this is the only reason you took this class," another girl replied. Adrien frowned.

"It may have been a deciding factor," the first girl said. "But only between this and theory of colour, or as I like to call it: elementary art 101."

The other girl laughed and Adrien's eyes flew open. There was no way in hell. His luck could not possibly be this bad.

 _"Seriously, though, dude,"_ Nino was saying,  _"you can trust me not to tell anyone about your new endeavour. I'll keep Alya in line too."_ Adrien's gaze raked across the crowded room.  _"I'll make extra sure your dad doesn't hear about it, too."_

_Please don't be who I think it is, please, if there is a God above, do not let it be someone I know._

His eyes snagged on a familiar black top knot.

"Shit."

Nino's voice stopped for a moment, before,  _"What's wrong, dude?"_

A string of curse words unleashed in Adrien's head, and he  _could not stop staring at her_.

"Shitshitshitshitshitshitshit shit!" he muttered. Louder, he said, "Nino, I'm gonna have to call you back later, bye." He jammed his finger against the earpiece to end the call, then pulled it from his ear and shoved it into his pocket next to his phone.

His eyes bounced back to the source of his panic and widened when they met a pair of equally wide sky blue ones.

He was so screwed and he was still completely dressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this absolute bananas ride that I'm embarking on. I make no promises on updates, so it could be tomorrow or it could be in six months. Hopefully it'll be sooner than later. Please let me know if you'd like to read some of my other Miraculous fics (because I'm pretty sure I'm just gonna use this site for Miraculous RIP). Thank you!


	2. I'm Going to Murder Someone if I Don't Die First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! I was gonna post this yesterday, but I got stuck, so... whoops. Thanks to the three people who read through it while I was working and helped me fix it. I didn't get anyone to read through the whole thing, because I finished really late/early and I wanted to get this out quickly, so I once again apologize for anything that doesn't make sense. I think it turned out alright, but let me know if you think anything needs to be changed. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, Marinette's classmate/friend that she sits next to doesn't have a name because she's not super important after this chapter and I didn't feel like making up an entire character for that. ^.^

Marinette was already a little uncomfortable with the whole idea of drawing a random stranger in the nude. Well, everyone in her anatomical figures class was a little uncomfortable with it, so maybe she was a little more than a little uncomfortable. She’d always been taught that sharing one’s nudity with others was something intimate, and while she considered herself a feminist and a progressive thinker, she still felt like spending days looking at the naked body of someone she didn’t know so she could draw it was… wrong, in a way.

It felt like she was objectifying this yet-unknown person, she mused as she walked to the main art building on campus. Which she knew wasn’t true, because this person had signed up to be their model, knowing full well that they’d be spending multiple days posing completely exposed for an hour and a half. And people had been doing this for centuries. Even in class, they’d been studying renaissance and modern art that featured copious amounts of nudity, and she knew that in some cases, models had stood for hours at a time with little to no clothing on for sculptors and painters to base their work off of their poses.

Despite all this, Marinette entered her classroom still feeling conflicted. There were already a number of students in the room, most of them around her age, and the noise level was high enough to disguise any single conversation being held. Marinette wound her way through small groups of students to her seat in the middle of the room, occasionally greeting her acquaintances in the class.

When she got to her seat, her deskmate was already there, a girl she knew only from this class, but had befriended quickly over the semester. “Hey,” she said, sliding into her chair and dropping her bag onto the floor next to her.

The girl waved and grinned, before bursting out, “You know what day it is, right?”

Marinette sighed. “How could I ever forget? This is not the kind of experience you have every day. It’s more like a ‘mark it on your calendar, ‘cos it’s only ever gonna happen once’ kind of experience.”

Her friend giggled. “Unless you become a world-famous fashion designer, because I bet you _see some things_.” She gasped suddenly. “Do you think Gabriel Agreste had to do this when he went to university?”

Marinette made a face at the mention of her idol. Not only did she not want to imagine him as a grad student like her, sitting in a quiet room and studying a stranger in _intimate_ detail, but she also didn’t want her brain to fall down the dangerous rabbit hole that was the Agreste family. Before her thoughts could jump from Gabriel to Adrien, she said, “I would personally love to _not_ think about or mention that ever again.”

“You’re absolutely right and I am very sorry,” her friend agreed emphatically. Then, “ Let’s go back to talking about today’s main event.” Her grin was wicked.

“I want to say no, but nothing you say about this could possibly be worse than that,” said Marinette. She regretted the words as her classmate’s eyes took on a sharp glint.

“Okay,” she said slowly, like she was accepting a challenge. “What if... it’s a guy? And!” She paused for dramatic effect. “He’s _hot?_ ”

Marinette groaned. “You’re as bad as Alya. Remind me to never introduce you two.”

“Come on, when’s the last time you ever had a date? Not once this entire semester. This could be your chance to score, and you’ll have the advantage.” She winked and Marinette buried her face in her hands.

It was true that her love life had been practically nonexistent during her time in university. The slow fading hope she’d carried with her from high school and a few short-lived relationships while she was an undergrad were all that had ever occurred in Marinette’s life before she’d become too busy finishing her bachelor’s degree and starting grad school with an internship to care. Occasionally she felt like a relationship might be nice, but still... “I’m not gonna try to hook up with a stranger just because I saw them naked for an art class,” she said, though her voice was muffled by her palms.

“That’s what your 20s are for, though,” her friend said. “Adventure.” She nudged Marinette’s arm, who looked at her between her fingers. She was grinning. “Come on, this is one hell of an adventure anyway, right? Any minute, someone we don’t know will walk in here, and that’ll be our model. I wonder who it’ll be?”

Marinette took her hands away from her face and smiled wryly. "You are way too excited about this whole thing. I'm starting to think this is the only reason you took this class.”

The other girl shrugged, still grinning. "It may have been a deciding factor. But only between this and theory of colour, or as I like to call it: elementary art 101."

Marinette couldn’t hold back her laughter. “I hate to say you’re right,” she giggled, “but I still can’t believe that’s a class offered in _grad school_.”

“Right? I learned colour theory -- and I looked this up, too -- in fifth grade! When I was ten! That’s twelve whole years ago.”

“Maybe they think you forgot in all that time,” Marinette managed to get out before she burst into more cackling laughter.

Her friend joined in, which only made Marinette laugh harder, and for a few moments that was all she could hear.

As her laughter subsided, though, Marinette heard a painfully familiar voice, raised in panic, over the buzz of her classmates. “Nino, I'm gonna have to call you back later, bye."

The humour died in her eyes as they snapped to the source of the voice and widened in horror at the all-too-recognizable head of blond hair. She exhaled slowly as his head lifted and their gazes locked. Thoughts and feelings that she’d been mostly successful at hiding away over the last four and a half years came rushing back in the intensity of his eyes, as piercing and vividly green as she remembered.

“Adrien,” she breathed, knowing he wouldn’t hear her, praying he would, hoping he would turn and leave the room.

His eyes searched hers for a moment longer before he turned, startled, towards the door. Marinette’s gaze jumped to the doorway and saw her professor, who had evidently called Adrien over. As he walked towards the professor, Adrien’s eyes swept back to Marinette and her breath caught. He didn’t smile or nod, but managed to pass an acknowledgment through the look just the same. She slumped onto her desk as soon as he passed out of view.

“I’m so dead,” she mumbled into her arms. “Oh, I am so, so dead.”

Her classmate poked her shoulder. “You good?”

Marinette turned her head to look at her. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay… Well, I have about a hundred questions. Who-”

“If you ask that, I swear to God I will stab you in the eye with my compass,” Marinette warned without lifting her head.

“But you know hi-”

“Please don’t,” she moaned. “I don’t want to think about it.”

“I think you’re gonna have to,” her friend said, nodding to the door.

Marinette lifted her head to follow the gesture and squeaked when she saw Adrien and the professor walking back into the room. Her brain finally pieced together what it all meant and she slammed her head back onto the table in front of her with a loud and painful thud. She heard the conversations around her falter, but didn’t dare look up to glare at the people around her, instead, pulling her hood over her head.

 _Stupid_ , she thought. _Stupid, stupid, stupid Marinette._ She’d never before felt this slow on the uptake. Seeing her friend -- which was not at all the right word -- from high school had startled her enough that she’d forgotten her earlier distress. Now, though the words came back to her: _“Any minute, someone we don’t know will walk in here, and that’ll be our model.”_ And he had, practically right after the words had been spoken.

Seeing him had been bad enough, but now, she would be _seeing him._ And _drawing him._ She felt her cheeks heating up at the thought and she swore under her breath. Quickly, her embarrassment was turning to anger.

She’d thought she was over this. She’d thought she’d moved on. She _had_ moved on, and so had he, and dammit, Adrien Agreste waltzing into her classroom butt-naked was not going to be the thing that made Marinette quit her career in fashion. She refused to let her passion begin and end with the Agrestes, because it was dumb, for one thing, and for another, she’d already spent over four years of her life dedicated to becoming a designer.

Satisfied that a boy, even if he was a famous and very attractive boy that she had a history with, was not going to ruin either her day or her life, Marinette sat up, pulling her hood back down from its precarious perch atop her bun. She pulled her art supplies from her bag with intense deliberation, careful not to look around.

When she was done, though, she had no choice but to face forward. She tried not to look at him, but he was staring at her again, in a way that nearly made her forget her new resolution. “I am so going to murder someone,” she muttered darkly. There was no way he’d heard her, but Adrien smiled at her when he saw she was looking.

She tried to stop the butterflies from exploding in her stomach at that smile. It was not the adorable and unsure smile of 14-year-old Adrien, nor was it the warm but sad smile of 17-year-old Adrien. 23-year-old Adrien’s smile was confident and kind and _hot_ , and Marinette knew she was probably doomed.

She looked away from Adrien and scowled at a poster on the wall. “I’m going to murder someone,” she repeated, “if I don’t die here first.”

But as the professor called for the class to quiet down, Marinette knew that her resolve would crumble in about as long as it took for someone to undress. She would be dead long before she had the means to murder anyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the second installment of this insanity. I make absolutely no promises about when I'll update, but hopefully it'll be sooner than later. Also, I'm taking requests for fanfic oneshots and short original drabbles on my Tumblr (timeandspacewriter), so if you have any requests, go over there (or write it in the comments if you haven't got Tumblr)! Again, no promises on when I'll get to anything.
> 
> Please leave any constructive criticism, editing, thoughts, feelings, ideas, professions of love and/or undying loyalty, loose change, wedding invitations, whatever in the comments.
> 
> Bonus Question: What's your favourite part so far?


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